Another round- numbered family birthday approaches and I shall not be attending. I'm steeling myself for your rebukes. I've held on to my reasons for many years. Here they are: Do you ever wonder why, with a wife and young family, I moved from my beloved home town? A town where I slot back so easily into my old social life? A town whose local football team I've continued to travel long distances to follow?

Will you believe me if I tell you about the relief we felt on the day we drove south to begin a new life?

I was happy where we were and I had the perfect job in the perfect place, but my wife was unhappy; bullied by my sibling, squeezed out by grandparental attention for our children. So I could not truly be happy there either.

We spent two years looking for the right job in the right place and came close twice with interviews in towns we would rather have lived in. But we've been content here, away from it all.

In our home town, my wife's attempts to forge mother and child activities with similarly aged, nearby nieces elicited sharp-tongued unpleasantness. My sibling was rude, critical, belittling. Our visits to grandparents found them exhausted and despairing at the awfulness of my siblings' visits. We felt obliged to retreat, respecting their long-earned space to enjoy a few child-free years after so many devoted to raising their family.

While Mum and Dad groaned to us about the baby-sitting impositions of my siblings, we empathised, but felt we couldn't ask them to sit for us. My wife's parents died young. Bullied, lonely, unable to connect with her in-laws, depressed: I saw what was happening to her and chose to address her needs over all else.

On the day we moved, as the children slept in a hotel outside our new town, we lay awake and talked about the lightness we felt after finally moving away from the oppression. Independence was on the horizon.

Protected by the two-and-a-half hour drive between you and us, we settled into our new life and made the most of it. Further drift followed despite occasional family gatherings. After a sibling's wedding, we spent a miserable evening in a cheap bed and breakfast with our children while you partied. Outsiders, we were overlooked for help so couldn't attend another family wedding and endured your photographs and tales of experiences that we might have shared. I regret that our children don't know their extended family better, but I'm content to live with and accept the consequences of our choice.

In a strange town and not wanting to impose on reluctant grandparents, we waited more than 20 years for a night away from our children. To say that this placed a strain on our marriage is an understatement. Focused entirely on our children, we neglected our relationship.The last family gathering we went to was characterised by multiple short, polite, superficial exchanges. We were awkward outsiders.

It is better for me to enjoy occasional, personal, significant time with Mum and Dad. I am no longer a participant in your seemingly happy, extended family. I hope your round- numbered birthday gathering is enjoyable. I chose wife over family.

Writing this letter acknowledges the most unfair consequence: that you blame us for the fracture in the family.

Anonymous

We'd love to hear your stories

We will pay £25 for every Letter to we publish. Write to Family Life, The Guardian, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU or email family@theguardian.com. Please include your address and phone number